He was but a Child
by ShuckiestShuck-FacedShuck4ever
Summary: Over a decade has passed since Aravis left her homeland for freedom and betrayed her country in the process. The freedom to choose what she would do with her life and to whom she would marry. But what became of her family? What will she do when her long-forgotten brother turns up at the castle gates in rags? Rated T for safety
1. Chapter 1

Aravis looked out through the southern window of her bedroom, the mountains and lush scenery of spring blocking her view of her homeland. Which she did not mind in the least. She had fond memories of the place - once she was able to get past the bad. Her father had disowned her and proclaimed her dead in his eyes when she had gone back to reconcile. It probably eased the blow for him that his new wife had just birthed a daughter. Thus, she had nothing and no one for her back in Calormen. She left and never returned.

Now it was nigh 15 years later and she had a child from the boy she had once thought so beneath her. She was a queen in a good-hearted land and content with her life. Yet to this day she could see with her mind's eye that first walk up to the castle and how it had felt.

A set of strong arms wrapped their way around her waist and a face grizzled with hair buried into her neck briefly, "What has you so pensive this morning, love?"

"I fear I don't know, Cor." She turned to face her husband and lock her own arms around him, "But it has come to my attention that you are not where you are supposed to be. Are you not supposed to be working on the preposition to the council about the -"

"Now, now," Cor grunted, pulling away, "I've already got that done and decided that I wanted to steal a few precious moments with the love of my..." His eyes drifted to the window, something grabbing his attention, "What's that now?" He moved forward until he was pressed up against the sill.

Aravis joined him, scanning the hills beyond, "What do you see?"

Corp nodded his head down to the road, his brow furrowing as he saw what it was, "A Calormen limping up to our gates is what I see."

**A/N - Hello there, fellow fanhumans! This is a test run to see if anyone is interested and my first fanfic published on this site. I'll admit, the updates will probably be a bit slow due to college and all that jazz. Buuut I might use this as my procrastination against things such as studying. XP**

**Also, Aravis and Shasta/Cor will be slightly OOC due to the fact that they're older now.**

**This is assuming that the Pevensies have already 'disappeared' and gone back home but the Telmarines haven't taken over yet. The land of Narnia might come into play some but that will be much later.**

**Let me know if you're interested! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

The boy stood before the king and queen in the throne room, his back straight and head held high despite his ragged state and the clumsily wrapped wound on his leg. He was of average Calormen height, his black hair long and cut as though sawed at with a knife, his frame thin and taut with muscles earned through hard labor. Nothing to indicate Aravis should believe what he was saying.

Yet it was the eyes that made her pause. Those bright, sly, emerald eyes that were so full of life. The eyes of her mother. Aravis nodded to him, her heart in her throat, "If you are who you say you are then who is your father?" It was a simple question but an important one to ask none the less.

If it was possible for the boy to hold himself up any higher, he did, "I, Arrosh, am the son of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Rishti Tarkaan, the son of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Illsombreh Tisroc, the son of Ardeeb Tisroc who was descended in a right line from the god Tash." Rather than stopping there he continued, "My mother's name is Nalinayis, she died shortly after I was born. I am 17 years of age and will be 18 in 6 months' time."

There was a moment of silence before Cor sat forward some, "You could have easily gotten those names and memorized them. If you truly are the son of a tarkaan then why do you appear to us in this fashion? One would think you would be dressed in the attire made for one of your station."

Arrosh's posture did not change, but he did quirk an eyebrow. Her father's look. "To explain that I would have to tell you the story of the past 12 years of my life." His voice was smooth and tranquil as that of many Calormens yet it lacked the vocabulary of that of the upper class.

Aravis waved her hand in dismissal, "Not here and not with you in this state. I shall give you the benefit of the doubt that you are speaking the truth. We shall speak somewhere more comfortable and you will be given new clothes and your wound treated." Cor merely gave her a small look but did not disagree with his wife aloud. That was something for behind closed doors.

The boy, a young man was closer to it, bowed his head low, "Thank you for your kindness, your Highness. If you wish to move to a more comfortable room, then, by all means, let us go. However, on the subject of clothes and care, I would prefer not. If you choose not to believe me and cast me out as a liar then I do not wish to take what is not mine."

Cor nodded, "So be it." He looked to the guard, "Please, lead him to the parlor. We will be in shortly." Now it was Aravis' turn to give him a look. That was not as they normally did things. The only reason he appeared before them without being properly cared for was due to him having claimed to have an urgent matter to discuss with them.

Both the guard and Arrosh bowed low unison then left the room. The doors shut and the sound of footsteps soon faded. The silence of the room was shattered with the swiftness of a hawk diving in for a kill.

"What were you thinking?"

"Why would you agree to that?"

The voices came in unison and equally harsh. Faces went red and nostrils flared. Faces turned to the other with glares to shut the mouth of a Narnian squirrel.

Aravis tilted her head up, "I was treating him as we would with any other visitor who came to our gates. I was acting in the principles of our land." She waved a hand at her husband, "You defied them by agreeing not to treat him as such."

"Me? No, that boy has the pride of every Calormen workman." Cor scoffed, "He would never have agreed and you know it. I was merely speeding this dreadful process up!" Co leaned forward onto his knees, "We both know he would only refuse if he wanted something more from us. He -" He paused, seeing the look in her eye, "You don't believe this, surely."

Her head lowered, eyes looking into his, "I may. The resemblances to my mother are strong and his expressions are that of my father. Even the age aligns. By Aslan, I feel he's telling the truth."

"Your father is a tarkaan in Calormen. Why would your brother need to come here? Much less in rags."

"Well, let's hear what he has to say. Shall we?"

**XXX**

Arrosh sat in the parlor upon a straight-backed, wooden chair with his head in his rough hands and decidedly ignoring the guard in the corner of the room. A prayer passing in his breaths to the gods as blood seeped from his bandage to the old slippers that the head housemaid insisted he wore. His bare feet were not clean enough for the rugs of the palace.

This had to work. They had to believe he was telling the truth. He had not done everything in his power to get here only to be turned away. Everything depended on it. All was lost if they did not believe it.

**XXX**

**A/N - Hello again! (Huh, using this as a way to channel my procrastination really works.)**

** Thank you all for such nice reviews!**

**Yes, I have the horrible habit of writing short chapters. I'm working on that. **

**Anywho, I hope you liked this!**


	3. Chapter 3

Arrosh stood when they entered and only sat when they had placed themselves on the sofa that was in front of his chair. Aravis, his sister, looked as though she was going to insist he sat in a more comfortable spot. Before she could speak, he sat cross-legged on the chair, bowing his head to both hide the grimace of pain due to his leg and show respect, "With your permission, I would like to begin at once." Time was of the essence. He inhaled and willed his muscles to relax. They wouldn't believe him if he was as a stone wall that spoke.

"Please, speak." His sister answered. It was strange to think of her as his sister. She was a queen in a far off land and he was a pauper. She left for freedom and he was stuck behind. He could barely remember her. But the resemblance to their father was unmistakable. Her face said she wanted to believe him. The king was another matter. It was him Arrosh had to convince.

Arrosh bobbed his head again and fixed his eyes on the wall between the couple, "12 years ago, a young woman, nearly a girl, came to the doors of my father's house. When the servant pronounced that Aravis had come home, father grew dark and his wife near hysterics. The nurse took me away before I could greet you. I admit, I did not remember you well but the name I knew. I knew I wanted to see the face that belonged to the name I remembered. I snuck to the door and peeked in while my nanny was searching for me. Who did I see?" Arrosh looked to Aravis, letting the truth in his eyes come through, "I saw you."

Cor leaned forward at this, "And why were you with your father and not off with your nurse when the servant came in to announce her coming? What time of the year was it?" Of course, it would be him who would ask the first questions.

Aravis waved a hand at her husband, "Please, let him finish. We can ask questions once he is finished."

Arrosh nodded, giving a short answer to the question, "It was the appointed time for visiting." He collected his thoughts, "Not a month after you left, we had to leave the only home I had ever known. When I asked why all father would say was, 'Your sister, Aravis, did this to us.' It was not until later that I discovered it was due to the Tisroc of the time having discovered the family's shame and declaring his disapproval on our household." At this, King Cor started to rise but Aravis merely looked pained and held her husband back.

"We moved often for a year before we found a shack on the coast of The Great Eastern Ocean. Father learned a building trade and taught me as well. His wife,"

He paused, letting his emotions show but not overcome him to tears. Men did not cry. He would not remember her body. He would move on. "His wife did not take the circumstances as well as father. The sun was dark in her eyes and the will to live left her. I found her bloodied body behind our home not two weeks after we came to stay in the shack. I was 6 years old." Both king and queen sunk into their seats further, eyes never leaving him.

He took a moment to let it set in, then continued, "After that, my father became a harsh man, refusing to leave the soil that now held his wife, being too poor to buy a tomb or even make the proper sacrifices to the gods." His heart clenched and he looked down to his slippered feet. Why did scraping and begging have to be so hard?

"We have struggled on for the past eleven years, doing what we could to survive. Iliz, my little sister, was hired out as a maid and nursemaid assistant when she turned 7.

"This year, there was a famine in the land, and we longed for the sweet kiss of death many a long night. Last month, my father became ill. We were unable to purchase the medicine and he knew death grew near." Showing his emotion was no longer an option, he couldn't show it or dwell on it any longer. It would consume him. He held back the fire in his eyes, lest the slippers ignite into flames.

"However, slave traders came through and father saw his chance for life." Arrosh desperately tried to keep the tears from his eyes, he looked up at them, "He sold her." He knew he wasn't a proper storyteller or one that could keep the attention of a crowd, but they needed to believe him. They had to. They were his only chance. They didn't know what he had done.

"The medicine did no good and merely prolonged his suffering. He died less than two weeks ago.

"That's the only reason I am here. She will be dead by the time I earn enough money to buy her back and to steal her back would be the death of both of us. I have no one to turn to." He looked into the eyes of his estranged sister and knew she believed him. "Please, help me."

**XXX**

Aravis knew it was true. Deep in her bones, she could feel it. By Aslan, it was all her fault this had happened. His story made sense and the beginning had lined up with what had happened. She had seen Arrosh in the doorway with his twinkling little eyes before he dashed away while she tried to make peace with her father.

**A/N: Thank you all, again such nice and helpful reviews! I will keep the suggestions in mind. :) **

**I really am trying on the chapter length, I promise. XP**

**Mid-terms are coming up soon so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to write, honestly. But I'll try. *Queue me putting my hands on my hips in a dramatic pose***


	4. Chapter 4

"Do you eat frogs in your country? Do you have giants there?" Came the fast-paced questions that only a child could ask without causing offense. Fortunately, the asker was, in fact, a 10-year-old boy who went by the name of Ram, "We don't but Narnia does on one of her borders. I can't remember which one." He was a well rounded little boy, face still shining with baby fat and his skin a comely mix of his two parents. For the heir-prince, he was a surprisingly nice child and not stuck up like many other rich children Arrosh remembered meeting in his short life. After finding out that Arrosh was his uncle he merely grinned and cheered that he now had two uncles instead of the one.

Arrosh smiled a bit, "We do not eat frogs and we don't have giants." He paused, as if thinking, then said, "We do have ghouls, however."

"What are-"

"Arrosh," Cor called from across the table, speaking for the first time that night, "You said you learned the building trade from your father, what did you build?" While his tone was not as skeptical nor suspicious as before, Arrosh could still guess why he was asking.

The young man bit back a heavy sigh, the man had plied him with questions for nearly an hour after he had told his tale. How had he gotten here? Why did ye go that way? Now, here he was at it again. Was it possible to just move on and accept it? At least, he thought wryly, the king was asking all the wrong questions.

Arrosh nodded, refusing to shovel his food into his mouth and reveal just how hungry he was, "We built mostly summer homes and beach houses for the rich. Father and I bounced from crew to crew, not good enough to stay for any length of time. Unfortunately, it is not a lucrative business at the best of times." Arrosh couldn't help but shift in his chair, uncomfortable talking about his misfortune to them. At least now that Aravis had believed him that is. He felt like an intruder here, wearing foreign clothes and the hot bath having made him cleaner than he could ever remember being. He was nothing and always would be. But for his little sister? He'd do anything. Especially after what he did. It was his fault that he couldn't get her out without having to come all the way out here.

Cor seemed to be about to make a comment but was interrupted by his incessant offspring. Ram leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, utensils held firmly in his fists, "Can you fight? Boxing? Sword fighting?" That open, kind face reminded Arrosh so much of Iliz that it felt as though his heart was to burst from his chest. Why couldn't it have been him who was sold? By Tash, he would burn every slaver who had ever touched her to the ground.

Arrosh chewed the inside of his lip and looked down to his plate of food he had taken such care to eat at a normal pace, "I am afraid not young one." He smiled at him, "You probably know more of the arts than I do."

"Uncle Corin could teach you!" The boy crowed, shoveling food into his mouth while trying to speak, "He's-"

"I could teach who what now?" The booming voice of a man, who looked nearly the same as Cor, came, "I apologize for my tardiness, brother, I got caught up in a boxing match and had to clean up first." The small bandage above his eyebrow was proof enough of that remark, "Now, I was told, in the invitation, we were to dine with a long lost brother." He glanced at the young man before him, "By Jove! This definitely has to be the lad. He looks just like Aravis! I don't see how there could be any doubt." He grinned, clapping the boy on the shoulder and causing him to wince, "Welcome to the family, lad. I'm afraid my idiot brother has neglected to tell me your name." He stuck out his hand, an impish grin that made him look years younger spread across his face, "I'm Corin, definitely the most handsome of the royal twins by far."

Cor sighed, his hope of an ally with his lingering suspicions dashed. There was something the boy wasn't telling. He could feel it. Aravis was too spellbound by the story and boy to even consider alternate possibilities. All the what-ifs. In truth, it might take Aslan himself to make him fully believe. There had to be more to it.

Arrosh gripped his hand and bowed his head, uncertain of what sort of custom he was supposed to perform. Bowing was the norm in Calormen. Not whatever this was. "I am Arrosh. It's an honor to meet you." He let go of the hand, hoping he hadn't caused offense.

Corin gave a light-hearted laugh and plopped himself on the chair between Arrosh and Ram. He ruffled the younger boy's hair, smiling, "And how goes training, Ramlet?"

"Can you teach Uncle Rosh to fight?" Ram hopped up and down in his chair, ignoring his uncle's question, "He says he don't know how!"

"Already got nicknames, eh?" Corin chuckled. Quickly distracted, his eyes widened at the plate of food set before him by a servant, "Thank you, Enalin." He dug into the food as though famished. Manners, apparently, were only for when guests were around.

Before the little boy could answer, an older woman came in, curtsied to the king and queen, then a smaller one for Corin, "I apologize for the intrusion, your highnesses, but I fear it is time for the young prince to come away for a bath and prepare for bed."

Ram groaned and tilted his head back, "Not yet, Nanny. Please." He proceeded to plead with her with his eyes, "I promise I'll be good going bed."

"Go on, Ram." Aravis waved him away with a smile, "You shall see your uncles tomorrow."

The boy knew he was defeated and slumped a bit, "Yes, mother." He got off the chair with a big show, then started around the table giving a hug and a "Good night."

Coming to Arrosh last, Ram barreled into the older boy and hugged him tight, "Good night!" He pulled away saying as he left, "You really should have Uncle Corin teach you to fight. It's such fun!" At this, he started chattering to the nanny, telling her all about what little he knew about his newfound uncle - exaggerating as children tend to do.

Arrosh smiled some and gave a wave. Ram was a good sort and the gods bless him for making this dinner that much easier. Now that he was gone, what was to happen? A pit knotted in his stomach and he took a bite of food in an attempt to wash it away.

Before silence could descend on the group, Corin sat forward, "So, I've been told little of the situation we have come to but I do know there is a little girl in dire need of our assistance." He gestured around as though conjuring her up himself, "What's the plan?"

Cor looked up from his food, "A plan? What plan?"

**XXXX**

Aravis watched her brother, he was her brother most certainly and that she knew, out of the corner of her eye in an attempt not to stare at him. It rarely worked. Yet as much as she looked at him and wondered, the words refused to come and she found herself a mute in his presence.

What sort of life had he lived because of her? Had he suffered much? Though Archenlander's clothing was loose and willow,y she could tell he was a few bites from starvation before coming here. As he spoke with Ram she could see his light-hearted smiles and fun remarks to keep a young boy interested. But there was a deep sadness in his eyes that not even a smile could hide. He was hurting and it was all her fault.

Finally, she was able to say, "Then this is the perfect time to make a plan." She managed a smile at her brother, "Let's get started."

**XXX**

**A/N ~ I live! Sorry for the long wait but the world kind of went to crap after midterms and let's just say that writing hasn't been very high on my list lately. But I'm quarantining for now so hopefully, that means I'll have some time to write. Knowing myself, though, I'll find everything else to do but that. XD **

**(I really am trying to get longer chapter lengths. I promise.) **

**Stay safe everyone and read fanfics!**


	5. Chapter 5

The rising sun filtered through the window of the luscious guest room, caressing the sides of the open shades, and landing upon the empty bed. There was not a wrinkle out of place, as though no one had slept in it that night.

All of this was why the morning maid received the fright of her young life when she found the young man upon the floor. He was sprawled out, in nothing except his undergarments, as though he had fallen and died before he had even gotten into bed. She couldn't help the scream that escaped her lips before she covered her mouth with her own hand. The body jerked violently at the noise and scrambled into a standing position with fists raised. At this, the unfortunate maid fainted dead away.

The room tilted and dipped as Arrosh oriented himself from getting up so quickly. By Tash, who had screamed? Why? There was a thud and with a blink Arrosh saw a young woman on the floor. A maid, presumably. Color rushed to his face as he realized what he was in - or what he wasn't in, rather. He crossed the room to the wardrobe provided to him and covered himself before returning to the woman.

He crouched over her some, patting her face kindly, almost afraid to touch her barbarian pale skin, "Miss? Wake up, miss." She was young compared to the other servants he had seen around here. Her hair was a fair blonde that peeped out of her cap, face smooth and never touched by a whip. Why had she been in his room? Were maids supposed to do that? He couldn't remember. Iliz rarely spoke of what she did in the great houses but was always more interested in playing after she was released.

The maid blinked and gave a small groan before fully opening her eyes. As she took in the foreign boy above her her eyes widened and she rocketed up, colliding with him. Both fell back in mutual pain and rubbing their foreheads. "I do apologize, sir! Oh, I'm so sorry." She began to babble as she got up, "I was just coming in to do my work and I saw you there on the floor. I thought you were dead and I apologize, sir. I've only just started you see and -" She looked down, her face heating up, "I'm sorry to trouble you, sir. I'll be going now, sir." She bobbed a curtsy and began to leave.

"Wait," Arrosh picked himself off the floor, "What's your name?"

The girl paled, "My name is Fesh, sir." Her hands shook before she hid them behind her back as she waited to be dismissed. Was this what it had been like for his sister whenever she had gotten into trouble?

Arrosh nodded a bit, "No need to be sorry, Fesh. I shouldn't have been on the floor in the first place." He looked down, at least it was easier to talk to someone of his own station. Next time, he would simply have to overcome the fact that the bed felt as though it were going to swallow him whole. Not that he would be here for much longer. They were to leave this afternoon on a ship for Calormen.

Fesh didn't seem to know what to say but managed a curtsy, "Breakfast is in an hour, sir. Just ask anyone and they'll show you where to go." She turned to go.

"Miss Fesh, please," Arrosh called after her, giving her the smile he knew made a person at ease, "Call me Arrosh. I am not the tisroc, may he live forever, or anyone of great importance."

She gave a small grin in return, "I'm afraid I cannot, sir." She dipped her head some to hide her face, "You are the long lost brother of the queen and far from not being important." She curtsied again, "I thank you for the thought, though." With that, she went on her way.

Arrosh frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the thought of that. But if it was what it took to get Iliz then so be it. If he had to pretend he loved Aravis as his own kin then he would. Anything. He had already proven that after what he had done. Unfortunately, actions taken in anger tend to bring severe consequences. Hopefully, this would be enough to still get his sister back. She was all he had left.

XXX

Aravis paced the room, her hand cupping her chin, as she counted the steps. 1, 2, 3, 4… 30 large paces. Her eyes went to the empty bed, rumpled with an ill night's sleep, and her speed increased. 123456…. Of course, something would happen right before an important journey. When would Cor get back here?

She stopped her pacing and took a breath. It was just a visitor from Narnia. Why did she feel so worried? There was nothing to be upset about surely. It was just that nobody had come from there since the disappearance of the kings and queens - and that the visitor had come in the dead of night.

The creak of the door came and Cor popped his head in. Aravis felt her heart sink at the look on his face. Something was terribly wrong.

He started to mutter something to her before he shook his head, "I won't tell it a hundred different times to everyone. If you could gather Corin, and the advisors together in the council room, I would much appreciate it."

"What are we to do with Arrosh?" She asked before he could leave, "Breakfast is in 10 minutes."

Cor waved his hand, his head a million miles away from that problem now, "Uh, give him to Ram and have a tour given - with servants mind you. I don't want them getting into trouble." He gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, Aravis, I have to go now. I'll see you in the council room in 15 minutes and explain everything." He left before she could say anymore.

Aravis took a breath and set to work. Fluttering her hands in a worry wouldn't get anything done.

XXX

Arrosh meandered about the halls, both sickened and in awe of the place around him. How could people live in such a place? Well, he had once but not for long. What sort of person would he be if he had? Passing a clock, he realized that it was nearly time for the morning meal. He managed to locate some form of a manservant.

"I was told breakfast was soon." He said, embarrassed to be asking or ordering anyone anything. People were supposed to be ordering him. "Would you mind showing me where it is? I'm afraid I'm rather lost."

The man looked him over and a smile grew on his face, "Why, of course, sire, right this way." He began to lead him away, "I'm Ude, by the way. You must be Queen Aravis' brother. You've caused quite a to do around the palace I must say." He turned a corner, "Everyone is dying to get a look at you. Say, you're the spitting image of your sister." Another corner was turned, "They say you come from the bottom, right? Right. I was meant to be your valet but it was decided they didn't want to overwhelm you." They came to a large set of double doors, "Here you are, sir. Have a good meal." He opened the door and left before Arrosh could get as much as a word out.

"Uncle Rosh!" Came the child's voice of his newfound nephew, "Dad and Mum are doing something really important so you get to have breakfast with me!"

Arrosh felt his heart drop but kept it from his face and voice, "Is that so, little one?" He went and sat next to Ram, "What happens after breakfast?" Silently, he prayed that nothing so important to have delayed their journey happened.

Food was placed before him and he nearly balked at it. It was far from what was the norm in Calormen. Last night he hadn't even noticed the taste of his food since he was so relieved. Before him was slices of bread toasted with a whitish-yellow melting square on top, strips of cooked meat, and a heap of light yellow substance. Tentatively, he took a bite of the heap of yellow. Not dreadful.

"Usually, I would go to start my schooling," Ram said between bites of food. "But today I get to give you a tour with Mister Lunten!" He shoveled a few more bites in, "He says he'll be waiting for us outside of the kitchens."

"And where will I be shown around? Inside? Outside?" Arrosh decided that the boy didn't care how he ate and he wasn't going to know the boy long enough to care what he thought of him. He set to shoveling the food in his mouth. Never knew when it would be his last meal after all.

Ram, as Arrosh expected he would, took no notice of how his newfound uncle ate. Uncle Corin ate like a slob in front of the family so it didn't matter much to him. At Arrosh's question, he waved his hand, "Inside is boring! You'll see the stuff on the way to the kitchen but after that, it'll be the great outdoors!" He started to squirm, food nearly finished, "There are the training grounds. Where they keep the hounds. The archery range. The -"

Arrosh waved his hands with a smile, "Woah, woah, woah, kid. You got to leave at least a couple of them a surprise!" This was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do right now. Preparing to leave? More than anything. Not being dragged around by a nephew he never even knew he had. He liked the boy and all but he had a little sister to get back.

XXX

The council sat around the table in a solemn circle. Cor looked more frazzled than a king ought to when appearing before his subjects. His curly hair stuck out at odd ends and it was evident that he hadn't slept that night. Yet, through the appearance, he didn't seem panicked or unsure of himself. A king never betrayed fear before his subjects.

"To save you from the suspense, I will tell all of you the problem we are facing first and then give you the details." He placed his hands on the table and looked to Aravis, "Narnia is under attack."

XXX

**A/N - Hey all! Turns out there is quite a lot to do during quarantine than I suspected. **

**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! They really are the only thing that kept me from giving up on this. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

The clash of steel against steel and several cheers of onlookers could be heard easily from afar as Arrosh followed his young guide, trailed by the silent servant. The glint of their swords flickered in the blazing sun of the late morning and if he closed his eyes Arrosh could almost believe that he was home. Oh to be home once again. But that would never be possible. Not after what he had done.

He could only hope that Aravis and King Cor would be willing to have them. But that was a matter for after he saved his sister. If what he had heard was right, she had been sold to a man who wasn't likely to sell her again for some time. This could be good and bad. Surely these royals had enough money to persuade the man of the house to part with one measly slave girl. He'd work the rest of his life to repay them if needed.

"...you should try it!" The energetic boy at his side was saying something as they went towards the ring.

"Try what, Ramlet?" Arrosh smiled down at his nephew. His father hadn't been lying for once. The man's own features hid in the face of this young boy. Now that he looked for it, at least. This was the family he had only heard dreadful stories of his entire life. He had cast himself to the barbarians in the desperate hope of salvation.

"Practicing in the ring!" Ram's curls bounced as he skipped and hopped along like a jack rabbit through a garden, "I could get Sir Orran to teach you something! He's real nice and teaches me when Uncle Corin can't." They were closer now and the sound of fighting had died down as those around had stopped to look at the newcomer.

"I don't-" Arrosh began but was tugged forward relentlessly by the soft hand of his nephew.

"Sir Orran! Sir Orran!" The boy called, dragging them through the crowd of onlookers. He was either accustomed to the looks or took no notice of them as he bounced towards a large mountain of a man with a long dirty blond braid running down his back and a sword at his side. Who was king Cor in comparison to this monstrosity?

The boy ran straight up to the man, bouncing and gesturing back at Arrosh where he had left him behind several paces ago, "Sir Orran, this is my uncle, Arrosh! He's mum's brother from far away."

At that moment, the massive man did the most terrifying thing Arrosh could ever have seen a man of his size do. He smiled and bowed his head in greeting. Arrosh took a step back and bowed as well, his insides quaking. Men seemingly made of stone did not smile. He kept his head bowed and listened to his little nephew babble on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the men finally begin going about their business and take no more notice of him. Words swirled around among them and some he could pick up.

"Harvest will be good this year. I can feel it in my bones."

"Heard he used to be a slave."

"Looks like he was."

"Looks just like the Queen more like it."

"You just think that because he's the first Calormene you've ever seen."

"Of course I could teach him a thing or two, if he's willing, Prince Ram." A deep, rattling voice came from above and Arrosh was shunted back to the matter at hand.

A hand tugged at the hem of his shirt and Ram was saying, "Don't worry. He won't do nothin to ya."

There was a mutter from the servant behind them and Ram screwed up his face for a moment before saying with mock primness, "There is nothing to worry about, Uncle. Sir Orran shall not harm you futilely. Fatally, I mean." He gave the servant, or tutor possibly, a look that asked if that was enough. Apparently, it was because no further comment was made.

Arrosh couldn't help but smile some, "Alright then, Nephew. I accept." If he was to stay on their good side he'd do just about anything asked of him. From one slavery to another. At least, this one was more comfortable than the former.

Orran smiled again and beckoned for Arrosh to follow him before heading into the depths of the milling people. Ram stayed behind to speak to a man and to stay near the ring.

They came upon several rows of racks containing various different weapons. "Ram timed your tour well." Orran gestured to them, "For the next two hours is the only time you will see these weapons before they are counted and locked away. Any other time they are only in the hands of the guards on duty and the nobles." He shifted so his back was to the prince behind them and fixed Arrosh with a hard look before continuing as though nothing had happened, "How much do you know of weaponry and the art of fighting, sir?" He gave Arrosh a glance over, "Prince Ram says you've claimed to know nothing. Yet, you don't have the appearance of a man who knows naught in the arts." His smile had vanished and his eyes gone cold. Strange how a sudden change in demeanor could really turn one's blood to stone.

Arrosh shrugged, not looking at the man, "I fear you have misread me, Sir Orran. I know nothing of these sorts of things." He glanced back at Ram, "I fear the boy is going to be dreadfully disappointed when he comes to the realization that I am far from the warrior Corin is." He looked up at the grim-faced man, his grin wilting like a flower in a drought, "Please, simply call me Arrosh. I am of no importance and there is no need to call me sir."

He bent down to look Arrosh in the face, still facing away from Ram, "If you are who you claim to be then you are important." His gaze pierced the boy's skin like nails being driven through him as he scrutinized Arrosh, "If you're merely the mercenary I, and several others, suspect you to be then you are not deserving, Arrosh." He stood and gestured to the racks, "Now, choose your weapon and we shall see what you're made of."

Arrosh chose a weapon at random, which happened to be an ax that was by far too large for him. He gave the man before him a look of confusion and worry, "I fear I know nothing of weapons, sir. How do you plan on going about teaching me something?" His grip on the weapon was loose and it hung low near the ground. Why must his heart try escaping through his throat? Ram had said he wouldn't be hurt. Surely, this giant wouldn't hurt him in front of the little boy. Surely.

Orran worked his jaw and looked over at the ring, "Well, we got to see what you're made of first, Arrosh. Then comes training." He took him by the shoulder and led him towards the ring, "Come, now, let's not disappoint your so-called nephew."

They stepped inside the ring and a chorus of shouts rose up from the crowd. Obviously, many were of the viewpoint that he was not who he said he was. By Tash, why had he agreed to this? He was going to die. The man did not care whether it was in front of the child or not.

Orran, smiled over at Ram, "First, Prince Ram, we will see what he is made of. Then we will work from there." A cheer came from the now growing crowd. Ram whooped right along with them. Did he not understand what was going on?

"Absolutely not." The authoritative voice cracked like a whip through the air above the shouts, "Master Orran, please come out of the ring and bring the Queen's brother to me." Silence and a straight line to the beholder of the voice were formed. King Cor. All went to one knee as they saw who it was that addressed them. Arrosh scrambled to do the same. Was this the custom? Maybe he should have prostrated himself when he first came to them. That was the custom in Calormen after all. Maybe things would be going better if he had.

The king nodded and they rose. Orran immediately began to bring Arrosh forward and out of the ring, nearly dragging him down the line of onlookers. If the boy had wanted to make a good impression on them it was certainly lost now. Planted before the king, Arrosh bowed his upper half again. Was he in trouble? Had he done something wrong? Did they decide to not believe him? Did they change their minds?

"Come with me, please, Arrosh." King Cor's face was unreadable, he looked to Ram and his teacher, "We will discuss this later. For now, go to your studies." He turned and left, his pace brisk and leaving Arrosh needing to trot to catch up

XXX

"You do understand that pacing the room will not change the situation, right?" Corin lounged in his chair, feet propped up on a small end table in the parlor of her room. He picked at his nails, not looking up at her, "You know I'm not happy about this situation either. Narnia has been our ally for as long as I can remember and we can't just stand to the side doing nothing about it as this Telmarine king lays waste to it."

"I know!" She kept pacing, comfortable enough around the man to let her distress be seen, "I just don't know if I should regret my decision."

"Well, you know what your husband thinks about the whole thing and I think he's right for once." A smirk flashed across his face before he looked up, "Come now, sit down before you work yourself into a tizzy. Your brother needs you at top-notch."

She sat, placing her head in her hands and took deep breaths, "The decision has been made and I will not go back on my word to him. I won't." When her head raised, she was in control of herself once again. "I think Cor will have gotten my brother out of the ring by now." She stood with Corin, "Thank you."

XXX

Cor and Arrosh came to an expansive room, much like the throne room he had been admitted to not two days before. The difference was that this room had a large, round table with hard-backed wooden chairs lining it. Each chair had a crest upon the back of it and not a single person sat in them. It was just the king and the boy.

The silence stretched between them for a time, in which Arrosh took the opportunity to look around. It was a high ceilinged place with thin, colored windows lifting from the floor to a foot away from the ceiling on the eastern and north sides of the room. The patterns upon them were exquisite, portraying the various symbols that crested the seats. What was left of the morning sun trickled through the tops of them and cast their colors on the far wall and floor. Yet one was there that he did not see among the chairs, it was the face of a lion, the largest by far and placed directly in the middle of the north wall. His heart pounded at the sight of it and he found he couldn't look away. It was like nothing he had ever seen. Only in the horrifying stories of The Lion God of the North had he heard descriptions of a lion. How had he forgotten that he had cast himself at the feet of people who worship this terrifying god? Did they have sacrifices he knew not about?

"I want to tell you," Cor began, not noticing how fixated the boy had been on that particular window, "No matter what happens, I do hope you get your little sister back."

Arrosh turned, the window and his irrational fears forgotten, "Might I ask what that is supposed to mean, your highness?" He looked the man in the eye and quelled the tears that begged to swim up to his eyes. All was lost if he was unable to get their help. Was this what they had planned all along?

"All I'm saying is -" He began before the doors were opened once again. Aravis and Corin entered the room. Neither looked particularly pleased with the situation.

Arrosh looked around, his heart had either burst and no longer beat or it was going at such a rate he could no longer feel it. "Please, tell me what is going on."

"Let us all sit," Aravis said, her calm demeanor had shifted from when he had first met her. Her hair was askew and there were the traces of a frown laden on her face. What had he done?

When all were seated, Cor leaned forward on the table, his elbows propped against it and his hands folded near his mouth, "I will waste no time explaining. The situation does not pertain to you. All you need to know is this." He looked to the young man, "Plans have changed, Arrosh."

The world tilted and the boy had to grab the arm of the chair to keep from falling out, "But," His voice was barely a whisper. This was not good. He was never to free her now.

"But we will still help you in any way we can." Cor put his hands down, "I had planned to go myself, with the queen, and we would be back in just over a fortnight." He paused, looking at the worn wood of the table, "However, there are now circumstances that keep me from leaving and I must stay with my people. While they also need their queen, she has decided to continue with the plan to go with you. With her, will go my brother and two guards." His back was stiff and his jaw worked back and forth as though he was chewing the bones of his enemies. "As we don't want to attract too much attention, you will be traveling light. This evening, you will go." He stood, looking far older than he was, "Be at the gate after the evening meal. I would stay to entertain and help you, but I have matters to attend to." He looked to Corin, "Help him prepare for the journey, please."

Corin nodded, giving a small smile to his twin, "It's merely diplomacy and talks now, brother. We shall be back before anything happens! Worry not."

"By Alsan, may it be so."

Cor left and a brief silence came before Corin turned to Arrosh with a mischievous grin, "Pray tell, what is this I hear about you taking up in a bout with Sir Orran?"

**A/N ~ Hello, fellow fanhumans! Once again, I apologize for my absence. I hit a spot of writer's block and finals is really a good excuse not to write anything at all. Well, not really but it's what I told myself. However, finals are done now and while I do have a couple summer classes they will be far more relaxed than this last semster. So, hopefully, I'll be able to update more often!**

**Thank you, to those still reading this. I know from experience that it's hard to keep reading a stories that only updates every couple weeks or month.**


	7. Chapter 7

"You do understand that your continued staring at me will not turn me into a donkey?" Arrosh kept his eyes ahead and on the horizon as the boat pitched testily in the water. A small squall was about to come through, the sailors had claimed, and he was going to take advantage of as much time above deck as he could. This voyage would be far different from his journey here. This time, he was a passenger and not a cabin boy. Though, he would almost prefer the later. He would have more to do than stand about waiting for a storm to come. No one would let him touch much of anything that was work related. Mayhaps they could tell he had little in the way of experience. He barely knew the names of the various parts and places on the vessel.

"I stand by what I said," Orran's voice rumbled behind him, being the source of the piercing stare, "All else may be hoodwinked by your trickery but I see you for who you are."

Arrosh took advantage of the fact his back was to the mountain of a man and indulged in an eye roll. "Think what you like of me, sir." He turned towards the man, giving a shrug, "But I will stand by what I have said as well." The man might never believe him, so what was the point in trying to convince him? He was tired and no longer cared who believed him or not.

They had all said their goodbyes, kissed their loved ones, and waved goodbye on the deck. Or rather, Arrosh watched and besides the surprise hug from Ram and the nod of good luck from the king, waited for them to be finished so they could be off. The sooner they got there the better. It had already taken them all day to get to the seaside. Thank Tash the tide had been right and they were able to leave.

"Oy, I thought we were all supposed to be below deck." The young voice of the second guard chosen to come came along with the clumping of boots against wood. He was a short lad, recently been knighted, and far too eager to prove his loyalty to the crown. With a good word from Corin, the king must have decided that this mellow journey might be good enough for the young knight. Arrosh couldn't even remember his name.

"Aye, lads, it be time to get below deck, I fear." A gruff crew member with frazzled white hair who had been about deck with a handful of other sailors said, he cast a suspicious gaze to the sky, "She's moody today." Then he hurried on his way to go about tying things down and whatever else his duties may be.

All nodded, though the man was no longer there, and went below deck, Orran bringing up the rear. The ship was far from a large or luxurious vessel but it would be serviceable to get them there and back with an extra person. The sleeping quarters, chow room, and the deck was the only place Arrosh had been. They had already been at sea for 2 days.

He was itching to explore, yet unable to under the watchful gaze of Orran. He had not even been able to go see Aravis in her separate quarters. A large man with the hunger for a reason to harm him was enough to hold him back. When they landed, it would be in his land. Things would be better then. If he wasn't recognized.

It wasn't near any time for a meal and with no jobs to be done Arrosh went to his hammock and laid back to stare at the ceiling above. A good stare into nothingness and an immersion to the depths of his own thoughts was just what was needed at the moment. Who knew when he would have a chance to again? Once they landed, hopefully, things would fall quickly into place. He chose a spot and began to let his thoughts slide.

"What's Calormen like?" The nasally voice of the young man pierced his consciousness as a spike to a decapitated head would. "I've never been there before. Heard it was dreadfully hot, though."

Arrosh thought of ignoring him, the man was in the hammock below and wouldn't know whether he was asleep or awake. But the stupidity of the last statement was enough to nudge him into speaking, "I fear you have been told wrong, sir. Calormen is quite cold. Our winters are the worst and summers are short."

"Truly?" The man's raised an octave, "I heard it from a crew member aboard this ship."

Arrosh smiled some, "He was correct, sir." He watched as a small rat clambered across a beam and shuddered, "I was merely joking."

"Lying is more like it, boy." Orran piped up, his deep voice in synchrony with the thunder outside. "Like all your other tales."

Arrosh said nothing to that and by the shifting below, the young knight was not comfortable confronting his superior. That, or he agreed and had not the guts to say so.

"Oh, leave the boy alone, Sir Orran. You are the only one on this ship that doesn't believe him and I would suggest you let Queen Aravis hear you speak as such." Corin piped up from the doorway, his voice seemed off handed enough but there was a hard edge laced into the words. His point was clear.

Sir Orran and the young knight shot out of their hammocks with a speed that did them credit. Arrosh had only just sat up when Corin had already nodded for them to stand down.

"Yes, Prince Cor!"

Corin nodded, "Good." He walked down the lane to his own bunk, patting Arrosh's good leg on the way by. "Don't worry, chap, we'll get your sister in no time." He stretched himself out on the hammock and soon began to sleep.

"What sort of animals are in Calormen, sir?"

Arrosh held back a sigh and laid back down. This was going to be a long journey.

**xxx**

Aravis perched on her bed, hand to her stomach and attempted to quell the urge to vomit into the bucket before her. She had never liked going to sea and would have almost preferred traveling across the desert once again. Two days at sea with two more to go. How ever was she to survive this with her stomach intact?

The room tilted and turned, her stomach heaved in protest. Aravis gave in, closing her eyes and curling in a ball on her bed. It was not a weakness to succumb to sea sickness she knew. But it still felt like it at times. Weakness, a dreadful thing to be and even worse to show.

"Shall you be alright, your highness?" The small, squeaky voice of the mouse named Zeepijeet came from the doorway. She was small for a Narnian mouse with smooth, nut-brown fur and bright grey eyes. Aravis remembered when her family had come to immigrate to Archenland, the mouse had been but a toddler, before King Loon had died. Now here she was, nigh in her 20s, prepared to be a messenger to the king if things went wrong.

Her heart twinged at the thought. If Arrosh was not true and all of this was a trap. The many possibilities drawn out to her by Cor, who still did not fully trust the situation. While she disagreed with him, his doubt was infectious and she could not bring herself to shake the feeling that had begun to nibble at the corner of her heart. Thus, Arrosh did not know of Zeep.

"Yes, I will be quite alright." Aravis replied finally, she had been thinking for too long. "I just need rest."

"As you wish, your highness." Zeep bowed, "I am at your command whenever you desire." She walked to a corner in the room that held a bed her size and a basket with several of her things. From it, she plucked up a crochet hook and yarn, continuing a hat she had been making.

"Thank you, Zeep." Aravis muttered before curling in on herself and tried to distract herself from thoughts of being ill.

Narnia in the fight of their lives without so much as a single regent to head their decisions. The only reason they knew was because Bree's oldest foal had made the journey to them. How could Narnia fight when they were divided and defenseless? Would Archenland stand against the looming army of Telmar if it came down to it? When she returned, would there already be a war on?

Aravis curled in more and decided that simply focusing on not being sick might be the better course of action.

**xxx**

The storm came upon them and day morphed into night. The ship rolled and tilted as the heavens rained their wrath from above. Prayers slipped from the mouths of the men both above and below deck. This had turned out to be far worse than expected.

There was nothing to do but wait. Attempts to sleep were lost for Arrosh, his thoughts felt as though he had shaken them up in a jar and was unable to think properly. The young knight had become ill once the storm hit and the quarters stank of his sick.

Unable to stand it any longer, Arrosh kicked his feet out of the hammock and dropped to the floor, wincing as his injured leg gave a throb in protest. It had healed mostly, but was prone to giving mild complaints when in use.

This was the worst time to explore and possibly the best. He hadn't heard much from Orran in some time. Mayhaps he was ill as well. With a cast of his gaze around, he saw that Prince Corin had left the quarters. That may be a good excuse.

"Where are you going, boy?" He was within two steps of the door when the rumble came from directly behind him.

"I am going to explore the ship, sir." Arrosh did not turn around. The ship jolted and he stumbled a few paces to the side, holding himself against the frame. He may have had his sea legs but he sure didn't have storm legs. He gave a grin to the man, beginning to be fed up with being trapped in a floating box, "Figured it seemed to be the perfect time."

"So you can poison our provisions?" Orran laughed, "I think not." The ship shuddered again and both steadied themselves.

Arrosh turned finally, bracing himself against the door frame, "Sir, I do not care what you think of me or who you think I am or not." He glared with all the contempt in his being, "But your accusations are unfounded and unnecessary. I have shown no signs of malice towards any of you. I just want my sister back." He looked away, taking his weight off of the door frame, "I -" The ship tumbled once again and Arrosh found himself falling towards a tidy pile of spare hammocks and ropes that had inhabited a corner of the room. Landing on top of them with a hard thud, a cry came from beneath.

"What was that?" Orran asked, his suspicions of Arrosh momentarily forgotten. He took a step forward, pushing Arrosh aside and lifted the hammocks away from the floor. Beneath them, curled in a tight ball, was a girl.

"By Tash." Arrosh cursed, "Why is she here?"

The girl, pale and thin, sat up slowly, keeping her hands up, her features mostly hidden in the swinging lamp light of the ship, "Please, I, I don't mean any harm."

"What are you doing here, girl?" Orran asked, his arms folded and stance wide against the throws of the ship.

"My, my brother, he," The girl cupped a hand over her mouth and gave a single sob, before composing herself, "My brother came on this mission with you. Without him, I have no one in this world."

"Who is your brother?"

"His name is Nol, sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper, "He should be here. He told me naught but a day before you took leave."

Orran sighed, "There is no Nol here. He fell ill an hour before we left." He gestured to her, "Come away from there now."

**xxx**

"Your majesty! Your majesty!" The high, urgent cries from Zeep came from above as Aravis willed her eyes to open. So much for sleep.

"Yes, Zeepijeet?" She answered, careful to keep the agitation from her voice. It wouldn't do any good to let the mouse know she wasn't pleased with the situation. What was done was done. She sat up and looked for the mouse.

Zeep was perched upon one of the beams above, "I was patrolling the ship whilst you slept, your highness, and on my way back to check on you I made an alarming discovery."

Though there was nothing left for it to give, her stomach still clenched and roiled within her. "Just tell me, please." She sighed, if it was alarming then it would be best for her to go out there and deal with it. Standing, she looked for her mirror to make sure she did not seem too rumpled before her subjects.

"Your brother Arrosh and Sir Orran have discovered a young lady as a stowaway on the ship!" Zeep bounced some, "With the Captain dealing with the storm they are trying to decide what to do with her."

Aravis looked up from where she had found the mirror, "Truly?" She did one last fix of her hair, "Who in their right minds would want to stow away to Calormen?"

"I know not, your highness." The young mouse conceded, "I did not stop for long to listen. I was more concerned with alerting you." She bowed her head, "I apologize, your majesty."

"Quite alright, Zeepijeet." Aravis smiled up at her, "Please, show me to her and then continue to stay out of sight for now." She would brave the outside of her room and overcome this illness. Who knew what Sir Orran would think to do with the girl? Probably lock her up until the captain could deal with her.

**xxx**

The girl did not move, hidden in shadows as she was, they could not read her face either. Orran allowed the girl a moment to take in the information before taking a step towards her, "You should be applauded for your loyalty and courage for your brother." He took another step and extended his hand, "Please, come with me. We shall see what we can do." The girl scurried back from the massive hand but did not say anything.

Arrosh ventured to pull Orran lightly back, whispering, "Look, you're a giant compared to the girl and probably scaring her." Maybe the man would put their differences aside for a moment in a collective mission, "Let me try and then I'll give the girl over to you. Alright?" Orran glared at him but said nothing. Arrosh took it as a sign to go ahead.

Arrosh took a tentative step forward, "What's your name?"

The girl had sat on the pile she had been removed from, "It can't be. He told me and I left for the ship so I would be there ahead of time. He's supposed to be here."

"There's no need to -"

"So, pray tell, what's this I hear about a stowaway?" The firm voice of Queen Aravis came from behind them. Both turned immediately and went on one knee. Arrosh quietly pleased at his swift transition.

"Yes, your majesty." Orran kept his head bowed until she motioned for them to rise. "She has claimed to be stowing away due to loyalty to her brother - the one who fell ill not long before we set off."

She nodded, looking perfect among the chaos of the in use sleeping quarters, "Thank you, Orran." Aravis looked to the girl in the corner, "Please, come forward and tell me your name, child."

The young lady stood slowly and came forward, her head low in a deep curtsy, "Your majesty," The dim lamp light lit up her curly blonde hair and as she looked up, Arrosh found himself stifling a gasp, "My name is Fesh."

**A/N ~ Hello, fanhumans! Behold, I have actually got an update out on time! I will be trying to make this a habit. *giant corpse pile of good habits meant to be loom in the background* : )****Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews. When I come around to that self loathing stage of my writing process I will look at these to remind myself not everyone hates my work. :3**


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